Excerpt: August

Excerpt one: Since I was little, I had been imagining and re-imagining the same daydream over and over again. I was at an amusement park and I was riding the Ferris wheel. There was always someone sitting on the bench next to me, but who it was changed every time. I’ll give you one guess as to who it was today. Then we got to the very top and the Ferris wheel just stopped. Now, I’m terrified of heights. I’m talking can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t think terrified. But I sat at the top (as I did in every one of these daydreams) and I held his hand. And I wasn’t scared.

Excerpt two:
Today in Spanish, I daydreamed about the Ferris wheel again. I got on, rode to the top, and there I was, a hundred feet above everyone, the people looking like ants as I clung precariously to the person beside me.
Today, though, it wasn’t Boden. Today, it was a small child. A three-year-old girl. She giggled beside me. She wasn’t afraid of heights. She wasn’t afraid of anything. I had to be strong, for her. I couldn’t be scared. As I held tightly on to her chubby waist, looking down. And then she started squirming. She wouldn’t stop. I tried to hold on to her. I tried to hold onto my control. But I coulldn’t. It was a long way down. I started hyperventilating. My arms felt weak. I slumped in my chair, unable to support my own weight. I was slipping. The little girl wriggled out of my arms and stood up, holding onto the safety bar. I tried to grab her, but she just smiled at me and crawled under the bar. And fell. And fell and fell and fell and I was screaming and there was nothing I could do and she was gone and gone and gone, completely gone, gone forever, and it was all my fault and I couldn’t even do this one simple thing, I couldn’t even take care of this one little kid on this little kids’ ride because I was too scared myself and now she was gone and would never come back no matter how hard I wanted it. No matter how many times I wished for it.